Overall the house is rather inconspicuous. It sits on the corner. It’s weathered exterior doesn’t draw much attention. I find it significant because it is the second yellow house I have lived in- in a row.

The subdivided dwelling holds approximately 19 living beings with an extra two who dwell in the detached garage. Ten humans and nine animals in the main house. Two adults in the garage. Six Adults and four children under the age of seven along with five cats and four dogs in the main house.

Overall the house is pretty quiet during the day. One Retiree, Three worker bees and me- the artist trying to figure things out.

The loudness comes in waves. The neighbor comes home to let the dogs out- the kids come home from school. The neighbor’s live in boyfriend come home loudly on cue as if he is lugging the weight of the world soaked in anger.

There are a few personalities here that disrupt the otherwise still home.

Each one brings the anger soaked world with them. So entrenched in their own chaos they forget that we are sharing walls in this subdivision. They become ignorant that their vehement actions effect the lives around them.

Just a month ago I called the non emergency line several times. Disruption of peace, but also the fear that something sinister may be afoot with the reckless actions and words vibrating the wood fiber of our dwelling.

It is those raised voices that lend a feeling that one isn’t safe- and in my childhood I didn’t know how to react in those situations- other than to shut up and take cover. In my adulthood I have no tolerance for other adults who choose to treat those they claim to love with such vitriol. I also acknowledge that I am not an expert in de-escalation- and sometimes it is vital to seek help.

The retaliation hasn’t been that bad- but the fear it could escalate is evident. I want to think I have done the right thing- because I, myself are not threatening on the surface. Bring in the uniform- face your threat of authority ripping your life away. Sometimes we need it on the road to better things. You realize you do not want to act in a way that would make you a lighthouse in the dark with those who can change your reality.

Anyway- the house is like an instrument that changes cadence when certain people arrive or leave. And the stillness I crave tries to numb itself as these repetitive and scheduled waves activate the creaks of floors and slams of doors.

Even the new baby cries in a way that isn’t threatening- like it learned in the womb that they must not overly upset the tyrant that is their father- but I know somewhere down the road that this little boy will tower over his father- and that battle will eventually end.

Cryptic.

I’ve known since I moved in that this house is a wayward spot for the drifting – craving roots and something stable but the house will show you your worst self. And you can either work at it and get toward better and then it will spit you out, or you can reconcile your worst and stay in that zone and it will also spit you out.

It is a perfect place to reformulate what you want from yourself- because settling here isn’t for anyone but the retiree, whose son owns the house and wants a safe place for his father.

I like safety. The anger trolls compromise the feeling of safety not just for me- but for anyone who can hear their tirades. It becomes ironic when these tirades lead to having their own safety feel compromised. At this point the challenge is on the the individual to comprehend why someone may make an effort to level the playing field.

I know I am not wrong in action, but it can feel as such when retaliation comes to play.

Meanwhile the house is going to let us in and let us figure out what we have to learn in the comfort of walls and a roof. The house doesn’t ca re so much- it knows it’s job. The house is a house- it is our lives that give it life and make it a home- and a home can be comfortably uncomfortable.

I knew at a very young age that marriage and children were not in my cards.  I didn’t spend time dreaming up the dress unless it was to try and meld with my peers.  I came up with the weirdest name for the imaginary daughter I would never have.  It was really mythical in my opinion; Azora Wynter.  I guess “azora” means sky blue.  The name is beautiful and somewhat depressing unless you are a skier who appreciates a good fresh powder blue bird day.

I came up with that name when I was in junior high school, in the beginning of my depression as I tried to blend in with peers while still holding on to the self that existed beneath the required social structures.   And if time doesn’t exist- it was perhaps in that moment, coming up with that name that I deeply knew some day, I would make a decision so that spirit of something would not have time on this earthly realm.

We actually know a lot about ourselves at a young age and the world will either capitalize on it or try and wipe you clean of what you remember.

When my parents would say “Just wait until you have your own kids.”  I would vehemently tell them I wouldn’t be having any.  So far I have stuck to it.

When I was little, before anyone said anything about it- I believed in Mind Over Matter.  Weird that it comes as an acronym for MOM- because losing my mom at a young age is where many of these belief systems originated.

A mom is an amalgamated foundation for survival and life experience- when there is no mom a child grows up quickly out of need and survival.  It’s also very traumatizing but not something that can be openly discussed because the adults have a hard time quantifying painful situations- or at least historically it appears that way.

I thought and observed a lot of interesting things when I was young yet there was no real outlet for rumination of that sort.  Parents want you to be good and listen and follow directions.  Peers are trying to out do themselves with being “cool.”  I was in a constant spiritual battle and very aware of it on the physical realm.   Religion only made the struggle even more brutal.

I’ve fought myself to be where I am right now and if you were on the outside looking in you might find it a sad plight.  Over times I have been nearly dredged of whatever external drive I may have been given in this dream world.  I don’t want fame, I don’t want fortune.  I want to be in peace with the land and myself and anyone of that ilk is invited to join me in camaraderie and contemplation.

This isn’t my world.  I know it is a strange thing to say because here I am living up in it-  yet I am in the world, and not of it.  More and more I disassociate from it- not because I am frightened, but because it is so dissonant except for where it resonates.   These spots of resonance are so physically far removed from one another, that I am certain if they were in proximity something just may change with such a rush it would catch many off guard.

Meanwhile, here we are broadcasting these resonator waves  trying to create bubbles of heaven to inhabit.

This all sounds so crazy, but we need to be transparent about what is actually happening here.  I don’t spend all day and night focused in this way for nothing.  As time speeds up and this focus has apparent results for those beyond myself, this work just feels like it has to be done and I have been set up to participate in a greater effort for the whole.

This feeling that we came from somewhere else is pervasive in my common community.

For a long time I have felt that we will not recognize Jesus or the Christ because he is here in the faces of those fighting this spiritual battle that they were born for- incarnated to face.  The Christ spirit has been here for a long time- it is already embedded in those who are willingly here but have always wanted to go Home.

It is time to realize your roles in this play.  It is time to be transparent about what you are here to do and do it. It is okay to be in the middle, but realize there are two sides to the fence and walking the fine line takes practice and strategy.   You could fall at any time to either side.  Also remember that there is more than one way to get where you are going and you are a unique creation with permission to make your own way which make be more akin to a dance or carving your own path.

In this journey- some things stick and others fall away.  Pick your little battles wisely because the war isn’t yet over.